


Under the Black Tree

by Xanatara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanatara/pseuds/Xanatara
Summary: A widow at 32 and feeling lonely during the holidays, can two wizards make Hermione feel desirable again?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 156
Collections: A Very Naughty Holiday





	Under the Black Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [AVeryNaughtyHoliday_TRS2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/AVeryNaughtyHoliday_TRS2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Ron has died, the kids are at Hogwarts, and Hermione (36ish) is lonely

Under the Black Tree

October 12th, 2012

Thirty-two and a widow with two children. Whoever would have thought that after everything they had been through, this is what her life would have come to? The mission wasn’t even dangerous, a simple snatch and grab. But apparently that was all it took these days to take down one third of the Golden Trio. 

Ronald Weasley had left their home that chilly October morning, a promise of dinner at their favorite restaurant the following night on his lips as he kissed her forehead, Hermione still half asleep as she bade him safe travels, an “I love you” on her lips as he Floo’d to the Ministry for his morning check in. It was only when she heard the Floo come to life that evening that she had looked up from her research all afternoon. 

“Ron- “but she was immediately cut off when she saw who it was that had actually stepped into her modest home. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt and Head Auror Harry Potter, her brother for all intents and purposes were stepping from the hearth, brushing soot and excess Floo powder from their robes. 

“Where’s Ron?” Panic immediately slipping into her voice. Had he gotten injured again? Was it another bad fight that lead him to trying to take the lead and trying to bite off more than he could chew, metaphorically, when going against another wizard? 

“Mione,” Harry began, his face long, dark circles under his eyes. 

“Don’t!” She immediately cut him off. “Harry James Potter, don’t you dare come into my home with that look on your face and call me that.” 

“Mrs. Weasley,” Kingsley started as he walked towards her, offering a hand to guide her to the nearby sofa. She hadn’t even realized she had stood up. When had she done that? “Mrs. Weasley, you have no idea how much I hate to be the one to have to share this news with you, but I feel like it is best that it is Harry and I coming to you.” 

Realization dawned on her. Ron was dead. He wasn’t coming home. He didn’t just get injured. He simply wasn’t coming back home. 

“How?” She croaked; her throat suddenly so impossibly dry.

Harry walked towards her, helping Kingsley to piece together the story. He sat next to her, her small hand in his as he rubbed a thumb across the back of her hand. She knew he was trying to soothe her, knew that he was just trying to help her stay grounded, but all she felt was the wrong hand on hers. 

Ron had done what he had always done. He ran into the home ahead of the group for a noble reason: he heard a child scream. This time it wasn’t a child, but rather a former Death Eater trying to distract the team of six Auror’s. When Ron arrived inside of the large home, the Death Eater exploded the wall behind Ron trapping him inside which simultaneously caused the roof to cave in. Ron was trapped with no way out as the Death Eater used the Killing Curse. 

“We killed the Death Eater on his way out; we tried to bring him in under arrest but he fought us hard and he got blasted against a wall and hit his head and was gone before any of us could try to revive him enough for medical attention to try to have him at a trial.” Harry finished, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into him as the tears streamed silently down her face. 

“Mrs. Weasley,” Kingsley began again.

“Don’t you think we’ve been through enough for you to actually call me Hermione by now, Kingsley?” Hermione looked to him, a wry smile on her lips. 

“Hermione, please know, if there was absolutely anything that we could have done differently to save Ron or bring the Death Eater to justice for you, we would have. There just wasn’t enough time to try anything else,” the Minister explained, rubbing a hand down his face. 

“That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it?” Hermione stood, walking towards the window to look out across the yard, the large oak tree with the chair swing moving back and forth gently in the breeze. She turned to them, watching as both men who had gone through and lost so much looked to her, trying with all their might to find a way within their capabilities to bring the newly grieving widow some sort of comfort with their words. “We’ve never had enough time; not one of us. Time just isn’t on our side. “

4 Years Later – December 10th, 2015

Hermione Granger-Weasley was a lucky woman. A widow at thirty-two, but Ron had given her and their two wonderful children, Rose and Hugo, such a wonderful life. A wonderful home and a wonderful family for them to all rely on. 

After Ron had passed, she doubled her efforts at work within the Department of Magical Creatures. She had gotten werewolf legislation passed; while it wasn’t exactly what she had wanted or proposed, no longer allowing job discrimination based on the fact that someone was a werewolf was a huge step in the right direction. 

Remus Lupin was incredibly grateful for that fact alone. After narrowly surviving the war but losing his wife, he too had distracted himself as much as possible within his work. Once the legislation passed, he began working at Flourish & Blott’s and after the prior manager had finally retired, Remus took over in his stead. 

Due to his close proximity to books, he of course saw Hermione quite often; nearly on a daily basis. She typically came by on her way home from work after stopping in for a drink or bite to eat with Harry, Ginny, or both at the Leaky Cauldron while the children were at school or if she just needed a distraction. Two weeks before Christmas was no surprise to him, considering that both of her children loved books nearly as much as she if that were even possible. 

The bell over the door rang out with a gust of wind bringing in some snowflakes as a bundled-up Hermione walked in, quickly forcing the door shut behind her against the wind. 

“Good evening, Hermione,” Remus called out, Moony’s senses picking up her one of a kind scent. Books, fresh parchment, and a light scent of lavender that he assumed was from her shampoo. “What brings you in during this weather we’re having?”

“Oh! Hello, Remus! Just last-minute gifts for the children, maybe a little something for myself; the usual,” she laughed as she unwrapped her scarf and shook the snowflakes from her wild mane of hair. After 23 years of knowing her, he should be used to how wild her lion’s mane of hair was, but it always amazed him at how it seemed almost weather resistant. 

Hermione started across the store, her eyes scanning the stacks, looking for the latest additions to the collection, her lips moving as she read different titles under her breath. After Remus had taken over the management of the bookstore, Hermione was drawn to the interesting titles that he had begun to stock that she always seemed to be looking for. It didn’t hurt that the manager happened to be a handsome man that she’d had a crush on since she was a young teen, but the formerly sandy haired werewolf now had some grey peppering his slightly overgrown locks. But she told herself time and time again, the handsome werewolf had nothing to do with her need to be in the store nearly daily. No, it was for her love of education, her thirst for knowledge. But Merlin, had his sweater gotten tighter across his chest, or was she just imagining things?

“Oh Moony!” came a voice from the back of the store. Hermione turned and immediately the nickname made sense. Sirius Black came into view, long black hair tied back loosely at the nape of his neck as his black oxford shirt hung loosely from his frame, the top few buttons undone. “Moony, we need to take a look at – well Merlin, if it isn’t Hermione Granger!” He exclaimed, taking in the sight of the bemused woman. He quickly moved to her and scooped her up into a hug, his nose delving deep into her hair and breathing in the scent of her. She laughed and gently batted at his shoulder as he put her down, his hands lingering at the small of her back for just a moment too long, her hand resting on his chest just the same. 

“Honestly, Sirius, it’s like you didn’t just see me yesterday and two days before that,” she admonished teasingly, adjusting her blouse under her open hanging robes. 

“Well yes, but you always refuse to join us for a drink in the back, love” He stated, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her towards the back of the store where he had just emerged. “Or dinner. Or lunch. Or breakfast,” he stated salaciously, his eyebrows waggling for extra effect. 

“Wh-what? Breakfast?” The bookworm stuttered. 

“Well, if you ever decided to join us poor bachelors at Grimmauld Place for a nice dinner or perhaps even a Christmas morning, we would of course have to provide such a lovely houseguest who may overindulge in Firewhiskey with a place to sleep and a solid breakfast to stave off a hangover.” Sirius supplied simply. 

“Now, now, Sirius,” Remus admonished, trailing behind them to the backroom. He grabbed Hermione’s outer robes from her arms and hung them on a hook near the door and pulled out a seat for her as Sirius set about grabbing a decanter of Firewhiskey from the shelf behind Remus’ desk. “Hermione doesn’t need to deal with us poor old sods even more than she already does. Besides, with the way you harass her into having a drink every time she steps foot into her favorite store, do you blame her?”

“Gentlemen!” Hermione laughed. “I would love to have dinner with you. However, you always seem to ask me when I’ve already eaten.”

Sirius turned, placing three tumblers on the desk in front of them, sinking into Remus’ high back chair, kicking his feet onto the mahogany desk, ignoring the golden twinge that rose to the werewolf’s eyes as he leaned back in the leather chair. “So then let’s make a date.”

“I’m sorry, a what?” Hermione sputtered, drops of FIrewhiskey running down her chin as she lifted her eyes to look between the two men. She quickly wiped the errant drops of liquid from her chin with the sleeve of her large chunky knit cardigan, looking quickly between the two men, searching for some kind of joke in their eyes. 

“A date. One where you do not eat dinner, you come to Grimmauld at a certain time, and we will have dinner waiting for you.” Sirius stated simply, shrugging his shoulders lightly as he brough the glass to his lips, the amber liquid moving across his lips slowly. It was as if his proposal was the simplest thing in the world, the most logical. But how could it be? A date with her best friend’s god father and her former professor? What would people think? What would Harry think? What did she think?

“Padfoot, give the poor girl a break. I see the wheels in her head spinning faster than a top,” Remus chuckled, settling into the seat a little further as he sipped his drink. 

“Who said I was joking?” Sirius asked, a mischievous smile playing with his features. While Azkaban may have aged him, the Veil certainly had not. He looked younger than Remus, younger than he should. The few grey streaks in the hair framing his face made him more distinguished, accentuating his features more than anything. 

Remus sat up straight and slammed the glass on the desktop. “Sirius,” he glowered. “Rethink what you are saying.” 

A silent conversation passed between the two, seconds ticked by longer than what they should have lasted. 

Hermione stood, unable to stand the silence and the millions of questions running circles in her mind. “I should go.” She turned to the door, her hand just grasping the handle when a hand encircled her wrist. She turned, surprised to see that it was Remus and not Sirius. 

“Hermione, we would be honored if you would join us on Thursday night for Christmas Eve dinner,” Remus said softly, his thumb brushing lightly back and forth across her pulse point.

Sirius rose from his seat and quickly crossed the room, standing behind Remus. “Honestly, Hermione, we truly would love to have you for dinner. As a date, as friends, however you feel comfortable.” He sighed, pushing his hair from his face. “Here’s the thing; Remus and I have talked about this ad nauseum. We want you. However you’ll have us. Friends or more. These last few years, watching you handle Ron’s passing and raising your children has just shown us how truly mature you’ve become even since your Hogwarts days, if that was even possible. We haven’t wanted to impose or intrude. We just want to take the chance that we have, here and now, to show you how we feel and how we feel you should be treated.”

“We just want to be able to make you happy. So here is our proposal: we will have dinner ready on Christmas Eve at 8 pm at Grimmauld. If you show, that means that you want to see what we have to offer. If you don’t, we will act as if none of this never happened,” Sirius stepped forward, taking her other hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “If you do, we see where the night naturally leads us. In the end, everything is up to you, love.” 

Remus nodded in agreement, pressing a kiss to her hand as well. He stepped forward, impossibly close to her, and opened the door behind her, taking her robes from the hook and wrapping them around her shoulders as he walked her to the front door of the store. 

“Hermione,” Remus began, his hand pausing on the door. “Please don’t take offense to any of this. We truly do mean well. If this, us, isn’t what you want in any capacity other than friends, it won’t change a thing. Sirius and I, well, we’ve had a lot of time to think and talk about this. After nearly losing my life and Sirius coming back to life in a manner of speaking, we’ve all been through a lot and we feel that we need to take any chance, any opportunity, to make ourselves happy, and we feel that you are just that; someone and something that will make us happy. Just think about it. And if you come, I promise you won’t regret it.”

And with that, he opened the door and she was back into the cold and snowy London night. The cold wind whipped around her, shocking her system. But this was just what she needed; a cold reset to her mind to prepare her for what was the come: the decision between having both of her crushes or neither of them at all. 

December 24th, 2015 

Two weeks passed in what seemed like record time. Between making arrangements for Rose and Hugo to stay at Hogwarts and reassuring them that yes, their decision to remain behind was perfectly fine and no, she really did not need them to come home and keep her company and making sure that she didn’t lose her mind thinking and rethinking about what the evening held for her weighed strongly on her mind. 

But she had come to a decision, hadn’t she? One that she felt didn’t take much time to come to at all. As she set about her home getting ready for the evening, she spotted a bottle of Firewhiskey on the bar cart in the study. Before allowing a second thought to enter her mind, she quickly crossed the room and poured herself a healthy glass to help steel her nerves as she went to her room to get dressed. 

Modest was best. Or so her mother had told her time and time again as a child. As she flicked article of clothing past her, she felt as if nothing was suitable for the evening and the possibilities that lay behind the doors of Grimmauld place with one Sirius Black and one Remus Lupin. 

Finally, after sifting through her armoire for what felt like hours, she settled on a simple pair of denim trousers and a black silk camisole under a Gryffindor red cardigan. Simple. Understated. But as she gazed at her reflection in the floor length mirror, she could see the curve of her cleavage and decided that it was just teasing enough to allow the mind to wonder. After all, she could be modest but still tease a little of what was to come, couldn’t she? 

She grabbed her cloak and her wand, sticking it into her beaded clutch and Apparated to the Apparition point down the street from Grimmauld Place. Steeling her nerves, she quickly walked her way to the front door, still hidden from Muggle sight, and knocked gently three times just as she could hear the church bells toll: it was precisely 8 pm. 

The doorknob turned and she sucked in a breath, waiting to see who was on the other side. “Hermione!” Remus’ face came from behind the door. “I’m so glad you could make it. Please, come in.” 

He pulled the door open wider and she could see that Sirius was just inside, a slow smiling creeping onto his face as he took in the sight of her. Remus helped her to remove her cloak and place it on the rack near the door and handed her a glass of mulled wine. 

“This will go much better with dinner than Firewhiskey, but I don’t think Sirius agrees with me,” Remus offered as he gestured for her to follow the only remining Black heir downstairs to the kitchen, offering her his arm. She took it, her nerves suddenly returning as he gently tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, his fingers a bit rougher than she had expected. 

The smells as they neared the kitchen definitely rivaled that of Molly Weasley or even of Hogwarts. As she inhaled the wonderful scents, she could pick out roast and potatoes and something sweet that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

Heading to the stove, Sirius called out, “Roast, potatoes, and strawberry tartlets. I figured that a nice comfort meal might suit some of the heavier conversation that may come out this evening.” 

Remus guided her to the table, pulling out the chair to the right of the head of the table. He went to Sirius’ side, a murmured conversation occurring between them before they both returned, hands full of dishes to place on the table. Sirius sat at the head of the table and Remus to the left, the former waving his hand to wordlessly summon the plates to finish off the well-made table. 

“Please,” he said, gesturing towards the food. “Dig in.” 

Hermione paused, unsure of what exactly what was occurring. Sensing her hesitation, both men paused, glanced at each other, and turned their eyes to her. 

“I don’t….” she tried, looking down at her hands in her lap. “What is all of this? What am I even doing here? Why…. Me?” 

Remus was the first to speak. “I can only speak for myself, but in your third year, you made a very conscious decision to befriend and trust a known werewolf, something that most adults don’t and still will not do. You stood by your friends and trusted his judgement to trust and believe someone who was believed to be a known murderer without flinching. Over the years, I watched you grow up and become an amazing young woman; taking on a corrupt Ministry and putting your life constantly at risk not just because your best friend asked you to, but because you felt it was the right thing to do. Hermione, I have never in my life met someone so true of heart like yourself. As you became an adult, I admired your hard work, your passion, and your commitment to making the lives of those less fortunate all the better within your power. Watching you become a wife and mother was a wonderful thing to see, something that you desperately needed and wanted, a semblance of normalcy when your childhood was stripped from you and I never wanted to take that from you. I never wanted for you to see the old man pining for the young girl. Surely you wouldn’t have wanted that.” He paused, taking a drink of his wine and glancing at Sirius to gauge his reaction. Sirius nodded his reassurance, a hand reaching out to cover his in support. “Hermione, Sirius and I have watched you for so long. Watched you as caretakers, as friends, and now, we would both like for it to move into something more if you’ll have us. We can start as slow as you want, we would just like to take this chance to be open with you and see what you may possibly accept from us.” 

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat forming thinking over his words. She looked up to first Sirius and then Remus and saw in their expressions that every word was true. They wanted her, just her. They wanted to be there for her, to protect her if she needed it. Taking a big swig of wine, she rose from her seat, a mixture of shock and confusion marring both of the men’s faces. A million thoughts were racing through her mind, but she only acted on one: she moved quickly around the table, took Remus’ face in her hands, brushing her thumb across his cheek, and slowly lowered her mouth to his. 

It was like a bright burst of light streaking across the night sky was illuminated behind her eyes when their lips touched, quickly molding and working together to find the right rhythm of give and take. She felt two pairs of hands on her, a hand in her hair and one on her neck must have belonged to Remus as the hands on her hips held her steady, not allowing her to fall, must belong to Sirius. 

Wait, Sirius. He was here, too. She gently pulled away from Remus and turned, finding the tattooed man standing behind her, his hands moving easily from her hips gently up her sides and to her arms, wrapping them around his neck. “I almost thought you forgot about me,” he smirked. 

“Not a chance,” she whispered, stepping up on her toes to reach his lips and suddenly, it was as if all was right in the sky behind her eyes. The bright light that was Remus lit up the sky and Sirius, well, he was the stars in the sky, now illuminated. He quickly pushed his tongue into the seam of her lips, begging for entrance. She relented but didn’t allow him dominance in the kiss. She jumped in his arms and he easily caught her, her legs quickly wrapping around his waist, tightening her hold around his neck. She battled with him inside the cavern of their mouths, battling for dominance, neither wanting the other to win just so that they could each continue their own explorations. 

He slowly started to move them, pulling his mouth from hers so that he could better see as he started across the kitchen to the stairs, heading in only one possible direction: his bedroom. She kissed down the column of his neck, feeling the way it vibrated beneath her lips as he quietly moaned beneath her ministrations. 

“Sirius,” came Remus’ voice from behind. “Sitting room.” 

Hermione felt him nod before she saw it out of the corner of her eye, slowly working her way towards his chest, unbuttoning his simple black button up as she kissed down his tattoo covered chest. He moved quickly into the sitting room and deposited her on the couch, forcing her lips away from his body. Seeing her pout and her hand start to reach out to the two men before her, a whine of protest rising from her throat, he chuckled. “Patience, love.” 

It was evident why they wanted her patience. Simultaneously, both men started to unbutton their shirts all the way, slowly pulling the fabric away from their bodies. They were similar yet different. Sirius of course had the tattoos, but upon looking a little harder, she also saw scars, presumably from the first war. Remus, though slimmer in overall appearance, was not lacking in strength. She could see the ripples of muscle beneath his skin as he started to make easy work of his trousers, pulling them off and setting them in a nice pile on another sitting chair. Sirius, as his chaotic nature should have indicated, quickly removed his trousers and dropped them unceremoniously onto the floor, moving quickly towards her, like a wolf towards his prey, in just his shorts, Remus behind him. 

She sat up as they approached, her eyes never leaving their faces, as she slowly pulled off her cardigan, placing it next to her. She stood slowly, undoing her belt buckle and undid the button, pulling the zipper on her trousers almost agonizingly slowly. Instead of removing her trousers, much to the chagrin of both men, she instead allowed the offending garment to sit dangerously low on her hips and slowly grabbed the camisole from the hem and pulled it quickly over her head. Sirius’ eyes went wide with hunger just as Remus’ eyes narrowed with focus as the werewolf quickly made his way to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her lips to his in a demanding manner, his hand moving into her hair and pulling her head back to allow a better angle. 

Sirius, not to be left out, set about making quick work of taking off her trousers and lifting each leg to take the garment off, pressing kisses to the inside of her legs as he went. She moaned into Remus’ mouth and he freed her lips as she gasped just as Sirius began to pull her black lace knickers down her legs, pausing as they stopped at her knees. 

“The most beautiful witch I’ve ever seen,” whispered Sirius from his position on his knees, reverence in his tone. He trailed kisses up the insides of her thighs, featherlight touches of his fingers ghosting her skin as he continued to pull her knickers down to the ground, finally taking them off entirely as he hitched a knee over his shoulder. Remus trailed kisses down her neck as he slowly worked the straps of her bra down her arms, unhooking it and allowing it to fall forward, her breasts finally released from their confines. 

Sirius slowly slid his index finger down from her hip, trailing down until his finger brushed against her hidden bud as he continued his slow trek down to her dripping slit. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her hood, his finger slowly slipping inside of her as his tongue reached out to flick against her clit. 

Fire erupted all over her body as her nerves seemed be igniting. Remus slowly lowered her to the plush rug, providing Sirius with better access to her dripping cunt, allowing him to slide a second finger inside as he continued to flick and lick his way to her orgasm. Remus bent his head over her body, his mouth slowly enveloping the pebbled bud of her nipple while he pulled and plucked the second between his fingers. 

“I- fuck- I need more,” she gasped, her hips arching off the ground as she unknowingly clenched her thighs around Sirius’ head as she crested higher and higher towards the edge. 

Sirius must have taken the cue as he withdrew his fingers from within her and exchanged it for his tongue, pressing into her as deep as he could, his fingers moving to her clit and rubbing furious circles. She crested, calling out his name in a choked gasp as the world shattered behind her eyelids. 

Remus, not to be outdone, slowly moved down her body, peppering kisses in his wake. He moved Sirius out of the way, removing his shorts, and positioned himself at her entrance. She looked at him through lidded eyes, nodding her consent and taking in the size of him for the first time. The length of him was surprising, as was his girth. As he gripped himself, slowly brushing his tip across her slit to lubricate himself with her juices, she turned her face to find Sirius. He smiled at her cheekily and bent his head to capture her lips, sharing the taste of herself on his lips and tongue. She was met with a surprise, a mixture of sweetness and just a hint of musk. She slid her hand into his hair, pulling him against her hard just as Remus slid into her agonizingly slow. 

“So tight, so wet,” Remus muttered, steeling himself to keep in control to allow her to adjust to his size. 

“All for you,” she breathed. “Both of you.” 

Remus started the move then, testing out slowly what seemed to get a reaction from the witch. She gasped every time he bottomed out inside of her, her knees inching up higher and higher along his sides as he gripped her hips, trying to keep her under as much control as possible for his movements. Sirius reached a hand down and began to rub her clit in time to Remus’ strokes within her, working to bring her over the edge again. 

Remus grunted his command, “Come for me, witch. Come around my cock.” 

Sirius pinched her clit right as Remus slammed home, seemingly as hard as it seemed he could and Hermione cried out, her back arching off the rub as she crested for the second time, dragging Remus along with her. 

Sirius removed his hand from between their two bodies and brought it up to brush an errant strand of hair from her face as he kissed her cheek reverently as Remus lowered himself to her other side, pulling himself from her body. 

She groaned at the sudden loss and Sirius chuckled. She turned to face him and blushed. “You never got to….um, have a turn,” she stammered. 

Both men chuckled. “There’s always later tonight or tomorrow, love. Besides, you didn’t even eat. You’re going to need your strength for later.” Sirius leered. 

Hermione sighed in contentment and looked up above her. The Christmas tree. Was this why Remus told Sirius to bring them here?

“What is it, love?” Questioned the werewolf. 

“Only Sirius Black would have a blasted black Christmas tree of all things.” She giggled.


End file.
